


Still Waters

by MidnightHeir



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Character Study, Coda, Gen, Interacting with media, Missing Scene, Not Prime Time, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, realistic ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightHeir/pseuds/MidnightHeir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that the Kaidanovsky's dislike the media. It's that they've yet to see why they should have to entertain them in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Waters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/gifts).



> Inspired by the prompt: "TEAM CHERNO ALPHA ... Pre-canon shenanigans are also great. :D"
> 
> I hope you like it.

This is not their world.

Flashing bulbs round every corner, hounding and chasing for a story in a never-ending stream of meaningless chatter. Words were empty and far too easily wasted especially when there was food to be taken in the mess hall. They were the tools of the politician and perhaps, if the time warranted it, a Marshall. When they walked hand in hand to the recruitment office it had been to fight; to finally capitalise on decades spent keeping monsters in check within the walls of Ognenny Ostrov prison. Together they knew, intuitively and without doubt, that the kaiju were an annoyance to be crushed beneath the heel of reinforced steel. Cracking bones and tearing flesh were all that either Kaidanovsky needed to survive in this new world. They were absolute; the perfect personification of their Russian-crafted T-90. Timeless and steadfast, Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky kept their mouths shut and their heads high. The steadily growing throng of technical support that followed them round the Dome like lost puppies viewed as a nuisance.

Aleksis' fingers kneaded the muscles of Sasha’s neck, brushing aside stray strands of hair with the lightest of touches. “Let the Hansen boy do it.” Chuck always hungered for it so with his flashy designs and petulant youth “Or the Chinese.”

“They want _you_.” It was a tiring, unending argument. “You’re _heroes_ now.”

“No.” A simple shake of her head was all that was needed to silence the ever persistent Corporal Hayes. Aleksis and she were many things to few people, however, ‘heroes’ was not on the list.

They were devoted husband and wife, experienced rangers and proud Russians. Heroes were the folly of those who paid too much attention to what the world around them thought. To believe in fairy tales and happy endings brought about one thing: a premature grave.

“What we are …” Sasha counters firmly.

“Is very good at our job,” Aleksis finishes, his hand reflexively squeezing Sasha’s shoulder

* * *

"Is it true you drink the blue?"

Sasha can feel the rush of warm air on the back of her neck. Aleksis’ flaring nostrils and muted snort were a subtle indication of his amusement at such nonsense; the shouted questions have become increasingly strange of late. An arch of her eyebrow answers the man’s incredulous question. As brilliant as they may be, the blood of their enemies is still highly toxic. A wry chuckle crawls up her throat before being held and swallowed with the lift of her head. Turning into her husband’s arms, she ignores the repeated click-click-click of the paparazzi’s camera to bask in her husband’s scent. It trails them all the way to the Shatterdome’s gate.

They can shop tomorrow when the Hansens have paraded in front of the cameras as the youngest is wont to do.

That night after debriefing Sasha corners the Dome’s public relations officer. “If you talk to them they’ll stop harassing you,” Hayes tells her with a shrug.

* * *

**“WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE KAIDANOVSKY UNION?”**

Maybe the public relations department has a point.

  
“Fears mount as one half of the undefeated Cherno Alpha team is spotted walking alone in the market this fall. With so much emphasis put on the drift, does this mean we are looking at the collapse of Europe’s most successful crew...”

Ignoring it obviously wasn’t the solution. Sasha’s fingers curl into the paper, crushing it into a crude ball. With a flick of her wrist, she directs it towards the trashcan across the room. When it strikes the rim and falls to the floor she leaves it there.

* * *

Corporal Hayes should be proud of himself. After two years active duty and four confirmed kills he books them onto ‘Tonight With Adam Hills’. An interview with Australia's premier late night host, champion to the Jaegar program and the Striker Eureka team, reaching out to celebrate Russia's greatest export in living memory.

"It's a perfect match," Hayes reassures them in the green room before ushering them both out the door and into a network of souless grey corridor.

One good performance is all they need give to their adoring fans and he'll leave them be. Standing in the wings Sasha squeezes Aleksis' hand in trepidation. As they enter the studio the siren song of obscurity beckons them back.

“It’s a game!”

In reality it’s white noise as distracting as everything else in this room.

They’re seated opposite one another in a cramped studio sweltering under stark white light. It doesn't take a genius to recognize that this is the complete opposite of anything resembling fun. Sasha is perched in a dress, of all things, with her trademark blonde hair weighed down with extra locks of fabricated hair. Everything about her appearance is softened; dark black eyelashes tickle the fine powder someone found and liberally spread over her pale complexion. In truth her entire faces itches. On her lap lies the same chalk board they’ve given to Aleksis, who sits in front of her, his beard trimmed and massive frame positively bursting out of the tailored shirt he was squeezed into.

In spite of it all her heart skips a beat and the mask she wears falters ever so slightly. He is as handsome as the day she met him. The cameras miss Sasha’s fond smile.

“Eighteen hours inside the drift,” Adam Hills announces to a wall of cameras and silhouettes shrouded in shadow. “How do a husband and wife _survive_ in that environment?”

Australian humor is not like Russian humor.

“Right, what we’re going to do is ask you both a series of questions. And all you have to do is write down what you think the other person would say!”

Aleksis’ smile transforms his face; lines creep out across his features, creasing them into something gentle and warm. Sasha recognizes the smile as hers. A twinkle sparkles in his eyes when their gazes meet.

“Sasha, one thing we’d be surprised to know?”

Her lips twitch upwards. Without hesitation chalk scratches across slate carving out block capitals in stark relief, ‘Shellfish allergies.’

Aleksis balances the board against the flat of one palm; his head tilted marginally to the side in jest. A smirk and tiny shrug to his beloved before brown eyes flicked down to his answer. ‘Allergic to shell fish.’

“Okay, okay, let’s try something a bit harder.” Hills paused for effect. “ _The_ defining moment in your relationship.”

Knuckles whiten round the reflexive grip she exerts on the board. With her head inclined down Sasha's eye sweep upwards to peer over the horizon of her brow, she spots the slightest of ticks in Aleksis’ broad frame. Paused for moment, he glances up, impassive face littered with minor creases in the brow in a silent question. As before, there was no doubt what mattered most to them. It was a memory encountered in the drift every time they went to war raw with passion. Assisted by technology, they flew through the ripples of memory, cast backwards to the summer of 2011 cramped together with the comforting aroma of sweat and dirt. On the wall, a rickety fan eked out meager air into the confines of a stuffy office. A first aid kit lay open on the table, supplies spread out while they simultaneously cleaned and wrapped the other's injuries, eyes glistening and smiles wide. The prisoners of Ognenny Ostrov should really know better than to test Aleksis Kaidanovsky's infamous fuse. It was that primal energy that caught her eye, and the discretion he wielded that let it linger. After the furor came the calm that ultimately defined them, a sweeping wave that consumed the fires of their lust to solidify into a stable base of trust.

In that moment she knew without question he would be hers and hers alone, and in this moment she knew that wild reserve was something they’d take to their grave.

Aleksis’s fingers beat rhythmically against the narrow side of his board, an answer pre-selected. Raising his hand he held the sign to the camera. ‘Our first wedding dance.’

For a split second the cameras recorded warmth on Sasha’s face as she showed her board, answer identical.

It was the highlight of an otherwise awkward, stressful interview.

* * *

 

The residents of the Shatterdome knew that when a Kaidanovsky shut the door to the gymnasium it was wise for all to stay clear. With a towel slung over one shoulder, Aleksis braced the punching bag his body rocking with the steady blows his wife delivered. “It could be different this time. Vladimir Pozner is Russian.”

Somehow Sasha didn’t quite believe him. “All we do is our job. Without the Chinese we wouldn’t have come back."

“One good story? Something to make them go away.” A squeak echoed through the room when Aleksis released the punching bag from his grip to brush a stray eyelash from her face. ”Pay attention to the other crews.”

Leaning into his hand, Sasha let out a blissful sigh, “ _One_ good story.”

* * *

 

After the Australian debacle the crew for ‘Pozner’ fly out to Vladivostok on November 10th with nothing more than their host and some lighting equipment. In the hangar on base with the towering silhouette of Cherno Alpha behind them, the Kaidanovskys settled in their fatigues, muscles lax and answer ready.

“There is a film…” Sasha says, “A film from before these monsters came.”

From his seat next to her Aleksis looks up, attention piqued enough to want to add to the tale, “Where a man stands before a terrible beast.”

“And he says, he says “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”” Defiant blue eyes flick out to the lens of the filming camera. “So when the siren sounds and we go to our Jaegar.”

Stationed next to his wife, Aleksis reaches out to grasp her hand, his fingers lovingly intertwining with hers for the world to see. “Before we leave the Dome, we remember these words,” he tells her, brown eyes studying Sasha's profile rather than the audience. As with everything in their partnership he silently defers to the wisdom of his wife once more. Glancing downwards, Aleksis does nothing to restrain the smile that stretches over his lips.

“And the kaiju. They do not pass.”

Vladimir’s smile widened, “Wonderful, no-“ The cry of the siren tore through the air, bringing the interview to a close. “And _this_ kaiju?”

“It will not pass either.”

**Author's Note:**

> o The novelization of the movie and graphic novel were not considered or consulted in the creation of this piece.  
> o Thanks goes out to my anonymous beta. Any and all remaining typos (especially canon related) are my own. I look forward to working with you again in the future.


End file.
